


Coffee Cup Tattoos

by shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, howie is paul's baby brother for a split sec, i luv them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars/pseuds/shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars
Summary: in which whatever your soulmate draws on them appears on you too, which paul takes to his advantage.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 21
Kudos: 108





	Coffee Cup Tattoos

Paul remembered waking up to a little coffee cup doodle on his ribcage and how much it terrified him. It was just...there. He didn’t remember drawing it on himself. Then, he remembered.

Soulmates’ drawings on their bodies appeared on each other. His mother came home a lot with math equations and test scores up her arm. His father was a physics teacher. It made sense. Paul had picked up his father’s habit, and often had multiplication tables and little doodles of famous math equations covering the skin of his forearms. He also wrote math on his hand during class. If he had to multiply something, it went on his hand. 

Paul rubbed at the drawing on his ribs, but it didn’t budge. He groaned and tried to wash it off in the bathroom. It didn’t move. Apparently, his soulmate didn’t know the cardinal rule of skin-doodling. Never. Use. Sharpie. 

“Why are you groaning?” His brother, Howie, asked. Paul opened the door to see the tiny 10-year-old.    
  
“Nothing, Howie, go get ready for school.” He waved him away, but Howie noticed the doodle.

“No way, you got a doodle!” He poked Paul’s ribs and Paul expertly moved out of the way. 

“Stop it.” 

“Who do you think it’s from?” Howie asked, eyes wide. 

“I don’t know, nor do I care right now. They used Sharpie. It won’t come off.” Paul wasn’t one to pay attention to the whole Soulmate thing.

“Dude. Even I know it doesn’t come off until your soulmate washes it off.” Howie reminded. Paul groaned.

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna see it,” Howie said. “It’ll be fine.” Paul had to agree with his brother. For being 6 years younger, Howie was smart. Once he was left alone, Paul scrubbed a little more before giving up and getting ready for school.

He was in English class when he felt a tingle in his arm. He looked down and what looked like rushed notes about the French Revolution began to appear. He hid a smile and watched the history unfold on his forearm. He took a blue marker and gently wrote on his arm.

_ Robespierre led the Reign of Terror, not Napoleon. _

He smiled and pulled his sleeve back down, continuing to pay attention. He felt tingles on his other arm and, when his teacher wasn’t looking, he looked.

_ God, my soulmate’s a fucking nerd, aren’t you? _

_ Yeah. Sorry. _

_ No. It’s cute. You’re going to help me pass this history test. _

_ Alright, I guess I don’t have a choice in this?” _

_ Nope. _

He hid his smile and pulled his sleeve down.

Math class was a stressful class. He continually scribbled math on his hand, trying to figure out the numbers quickly. He felt bad for the person on the other end, his scribbles were practically illegible.

_ Dude, what are you writing?  _ Appeared on his arm. 

_ I’m in math.  _ He wrote back. _ I’m trying to do multiplication. How’d your history test go?  _ He added, thinking it was polite to ask. 

_ Passed, I think.  _

_ Well, that’s good.  _

_ What’s your name?  _ The handwriting was rushed, but it was nice.

_ I’m Paul,  _ he wrote back.  _ You?  _

_ Hi Paul. I’m Emma. _

Emma. Nice name. He didn’t write back for a minute. Her name was Emma. His soulmate’s name was Emma. He didn’t know an Emma. Emma was a pretty name. He bet she was pretty too.

_ Do you live in Hatchetfield? _ He wrote after a minute, then mumbled “shit” under his breath. Bad idea.

_ Yep.  _

Good idea. 

_ Me too. I go to Sycamore. _

_ Sycamore? My soulmate goes to fucking Sycamore? Gross.  _ Emma’s words appeared on his arms and he blushed, not knowing what to say to her. 

_ Sorry, my dad’s a teacher and he was just like “Oh, Paul doesn’t get a choice.”  _

_ No, I’m kidding,  _ Emma replied.  _ I don’t care about sports rivalries :) _

_ Oh, good. I’m bad at those.  _ He bit back a laugh. 

_ Pfft, me too.  _

_ Did you draw a little coffee cup on your ribs? I woke up this morning and found it.  _

_ Yeah,  _ she replied.  _ Sorry. I cover myself in sharpie-drawn tattoo ideas.  _

_ No, it was cute, but it just startled me. Sharpie doesn’t wash off easily. My brother made fun of me for trying to scrub it off. _

_ Just like a tattoo  _

_ Oh, yeah. Sorry for all the math on your arm. _

_ It’s okay. I’ve accepted that you’re a nerd. Nerds are all the rage these days.  _

He hid his smile and looked up at the board, realizing he’d missed a bunch of notes.

_ Shit, Emma, I need to pay attention. I’ll write back soon?  _

The next drawing was of a little butterfly on his wrist. He noticed it a couple days later. It was a monarch butterfly, Paul could tell by the orange that Emma had used to draw it. It was beautiful. He drew a matching one in blue on the opposite wrist so Emma would have one of his.

_ Aww,  _ Emma wrote beneath it.  _ I like it.  _

_ Yours is cuter.  _ Paul wrote back,  _ I’m not an artist. _

_ They’re both cute.  _

_ Yours is cuter because it’s yours. _

_ Well, I see your math doodles have been replaced with drawings. _

_ Learned from the best.  _

_ <3\.  _

A little heart appeared next to Paul’s butterfly and he almost fell out of his chair. 

_ Wait. You go to Hatchetfield, right? _

_ Yeah. _

_ Listen, our drama club’s getting bussed over to see Brigadoon. Any chance I’ll see you there? _

_ I don’t know. _

His heart plummeted. 

Three weeks later, he noticed odd notes covering his arm. They looked like cues and lines from a play. Paul dared to hope.  _ Was Emma in Brigadoon?  _

He wasn’t particularly excited about seeing Brigadoon. It was a musical. Paul didn’t like musicals. He didn’t understand why they burst into song mid-sentence. He also didn’t understand why in the world he was being forced to see it. 

But if he was right and if Emma  _ was  _ in it. It might make it all worth it. 

He scanned the program the second he got it, the cast list specifically.

**Bonnie Jean - Emma Perkins**

There were plenty of Emmas, but he hoped that this was his Emma. He quickly scribbled on his arm to get Emma’s attention. 

_ What’s up?  _

_ Hey whats your last name  _

_ That’s classified :)  _

_ emmaaaaaaaaaa _

_ Fine. It’s Perkins. _

His heart fluttered and he had to hide his smile.

_ Thanks, Emma <3 _

_ Okay, I’ll admit it. I am here somewhere. I’ll come find you after the show. <3  _

_ Break a leg, Bonnie Jean :)  _

_ Fuck.  _

_ <3 _

With that, Paul put his marker away and joined his class for the production. He could barely focus as the chatter died down and the curtain began to rise. He was about to see her for the first time. Emma Perkins. His soulmate.  _ His  _ Emma. 

He spaced out for most of the show, but when he finally realized which one was Emma, he almost choked on his breath. She was gorgeous. His Emma was gorgeous. She was going to be very disappointed when she saw him. 

He could swear Emma caught his eye at some point and he could not breathe for five minutes afterward. He was antsy for the musical to end so he could 1) see Emma and 2) not have to listen to the music. Musicals were the worst. And it was your stereotypical Broadway show tune, like,  _ very  _ stereotypical. 

Finally, the end came and he scribbled on his arm again.

  * _You were amazing_


  * I’m out by the pictures of the cast :) if you want to see me, if not that’s totally okay



_ You best believe I’m coming out to meet you. Be there in 5. Don’t you dare leave. _

He waited, biting his lip as he uncapped the marker, half-tempted to say he had to go right then and there. This was nerve-wracking now that he thought about it. He was about to meet his  _ soulmate  _ for the first time. He’d practically fallen in love already, and now he was faced with the prospect of seeing her for the first time, the prospect that she might hate him, that the Paul Matthews she knew through doodles and markers wasn’t the same as the real, awkward, not-gorgeous Paul Matthews. The Paul Matthews that scribbled math equations on his notes before crossing them out when he didn’t understand. The Paul Matthews who didn’t have a good handle on talking to his younger brother and older sister. The Paul Matthews that he thought was absolutely terrible. He continued to fidget with the marker, staring at the cap. 

“Paul?” He heard and he looked up. There she was. Emma Perkins.  _ His  _ Emma. 

“Emma?” He asked quietly. 

“Hi.” She was blushing _.  _ Was she  _ blushing?  _ The prettiest girl he’d ever seen was blushing over him. 

“Hi.” He managed a smile before clearing his throat. He was definitely blushing too. “Uh, you did great…” 

“Thanks,” Emma said. “I kinda got roped into it. I’m not the biggest musical fan, but this was fun, I guess.” 

“Me neither.” He shrugged, “Singing and dancing makes me very uncomfortable, and being forced to watch it is not my choice of an activity.” 

“Hanging out with Theatre kids isn’t mine,” Emma said with a lopsided grin. “Guess we’re good for each other, huh?” 

“I guess so. I’m so sorry about the math all over your arms, and the physics equations on your side, and the-” 

“No, it’s cute. I like it.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. You’ve helped me pass many quizzes. But also, I like it ‘cause it’s, like, your thing. Little math equations  _ fucking _ everywhere.”

“I like the little tattoos, too,” Paul admitted. “It makes everything more colorful.” 

“Except that coffee cup one.” 

“I  _ loved  _ the coffee cup one.” Paul said with a smile. “Sharpies and all.” 

“Good.” She smiled, “I’ll draw you more then.”

Paul woke up the next morning to coffee cups across his abdomen, a little line of them.

_ Morning, loser.  _ Was scribbled next to it.

He thought a moment, and then there was an uncharacteristic moment of confidence. 

_ Morning.  _ He took a deep breath, then put his pen down again.  _ What are you doing around 5?  _

_ Whatever you’re planning im sneaking out for it  _

_ Well, Twilight 7 is coming out, and I want someone to make fun of it with.  _

_ For a second there, I thought you were a fan of Twilight and I was not about to be happy _

_ I like Twilight even less than I like musicals  _

_ Gods, you’re literally my soulmate. Twilight sucks ass, But, I do have to say, Taylor Lautner is hot. _

_ Agreed. So...5? _

_ 5 it is :) _

5 O’Clock couldn’t come soon enough. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> them <3  
> hope you enjoyed!


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